


Maybe, What If, & If Only

by 4ever_Rewritten



Series: Of Monsters & Men [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Catfight, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Good Cop - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Missing Scene, Snippets, bad girl, magical au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2018-12-04 22:50:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11564970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4ever_Rewritten/pseuds/4ever_Rewritten
Summary: A companion story to 'Of Monsters & Men'You probably should read that first.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Missing scene from ch 13

“Aww, look at him! He’s so pretty.” 

“Here kitty kitty kitty.” 

“He’s so soft!” 

Credence stepped around the corner to see a group of five orphan kids either sitting or kneeling on the ground, a familiar tawny cat purring at the attention. Nahuel cracked one eye open at his arrival, and chirped a familiar greeting. The kids were not so calm about his sudden appearance. They jumped to their feet, eyes wide in fear. 

“P-Please, don’t tell Mrs. Barebone,” Lily asked, stepping forward. “I-I know cats are evil, but…”

She trailed off as Nahuel jumped to his feet and trotted towards Credence despite the quiet protesting of the children. Credence spared a glance towards them before kneeling down to greet the cat. “...His name’s Nahuel,” he said quietly as the cat jumped up and settled across his shoulders. He never felt comfortable around people, even the orphans that he saw as much as his adopted siblings. But, having Nahuel with him gave him the courage to continue. “Cat’s...aren’t evil. At least, this one isn’t.”

Lily, the unofficial leader, looked at the other kids before stepping forward to pet Nahuel, who purred on Credence’s shoulder. “Is he your kitty?”

“No, he belongs to a friend...or a friend of a friend.” After all, he had never actually met Mr. Graves. He virtually knew nothing about the man except for Nahuel and the few things you had told him. 

The other kids gathered the courage to step forward, and Credence found himself smiling faintly as the kids gushed over the cat, and the fact Nahuel was clearly loving the attention. Though it was also rather strange, he was usually rather aloof at the corner store. But to see the kids smiling and giggling...something about it warmed his heart. Eased that constant gnawing feeling in the back of his mind where the darkness dwelled. 

He imagined this was how you felt sometimes when you had that fond smile on your face. 

“Children? What’s going on here?” 

The soft question was met with all of them freezing, giving a panicked look at one another. Credence could feel the Beast wake, flaring through his veins until he clamped down on the feeling. He stood, Nahuel still curled in his arms as he turned to meet his mother. Mary Lou gave him a quick look, that quickly darkened as she noticed the cat in his arms. “What is that?”

“H-he’s a cat,” Credence answered, and despite his trembling there was a little flare of...of something as he heard one of the other kids giggle slightly. Especially at Mary Lou pressed her lips together tightly for a split second in anger before regaining her composure. Something that made him want to grin despite her look.

“What is _it_ doing here?” she asked with that smile that he knew couldn’t be trusted. “Cats are messengers of the devil, and familiars for witches. Drop that wretched thing, Credence.” 

Credence glanced down to Nahuel, who was staring at Mary Lou with his ears pointed back. “Sorry,” he whispered, and Nahuel glanced up at him, gave him a reassuring meow as he carefully sat him down. The tawny cat took his time to stretch before sauntering over towards Mary Lou, who tried to shoo him away with no luck. The cat stepped closer and closer until Mary Lou kicked at him, except Nahuel took the opportunity to bite at her ankle before setting off in a run. 

***

“You do this to yourself, Credence,” Chastity said quietly the next morning, watching her adopted brother wince as he moved, knowing the stripes that were on his back without seeing them. “If you would just behave….” 

Credence shot her a look as he peeled the potatoes, feeling that darkness stirr in response. He tried behaving. For years and years he did his best to please their mother. And it was never enough. He was never good enough. So, instead he would bite his tongue, bear his punishment, and then once he was free of his sister’s watch, return to the corner store. 

He was wanted there. He was praised for doing his work, rewarded for it. Treated like an adult and not an errant child. McNally was gruff with him, but it was different. He scolded him when he messed up, acknowledged him when he did something right. Told him he was a good worker, even. 

And you...you were always encouraging him, teaching him new things. You stood up for him when you thought McNally was being too harsh. He had never, ever, had someone do that for him. 

“Look, it’s the kitty!” 

The sudden shout from Modesty drew Credence out of his thoughts. His younger sister pointed up to the rafters where the pigeons usually snuck in to roost. Except Nahuel was walking across the beams before carefully jumping down. Chastity gave a slight start as Nahuel landed near her, as scared of the cat as her mother was.

Nahuel barely glanced at her as he stretched out and trotting over towards Credence before flopping down on the floor, deciding it was the perfect place for an impromptu nap. Credence smiled for a moment before Chastity came over and tried nudging the cat with a broom. “S-shoo. Go on, get!” 

The tawny cat opened one eye, tail thumping against the floor once. That alone made Chastity lose her bravado as she looked to Credence. “Don’t just sit there! Make it leave, Credence.”

Credence thought about it for a moment before shrugging his shoulders and returning to the potato half peeled in his hand. “Why should I?”

“B-Because mother will be mad if she comes back to that thing being there!”

“Ma is always mad,” he bit back, pausing to scratch Nahuel. “And his name is Nahuel. He’s a cat, not a thing.”

“Can I pet him?” Modesty piped up, but Chastity held her back as the girl moved towards him.

“No! It bit mother, remember?”

“He wouldn’t’ve bit her if she hadn’t kicked him. He won’t hurt Modesty.”

Modesty pulled away from her sister at the invite. To prove Credence’s point, Nahuel purred and pushed against Modesty’s hand when she hesitated, making the girl smile. 

***

Since Credence couldn’t leave, Nahuel had apparently decided he would come visit him. And it was driving Mary Lou insane. The cat would somehow appear out of nowhere, causing the orphans to flock towards him. Reddish brown cat fur covered every single dress she owned. He would sleep in the rafters, alongside the pigeons that strangely weren’t afraid of him. In fact, with him there it was harder to chase them away.

And she bore a new scratch every time she tried to get rid of the cat. On her arms, her legs, and even her face. There was a deep bite on her arm from the time she went to punish Credence in front of the infernal thing. 

But the last straw was when she woke up to a cougar towering over her in bed, snarling as golden eyes glowed in the dark. Except as she screamed and tried to push it away, the cat was ordinary size as it jumped on the floor, its eyes still glowing as the door opened and her children tumbled in. 

No. Her daughters. Credence took his time in arriving, white as a sheet and shaking, but there was a strange expression in his dark eyes as he picked Nahuel up. She hated him in that moment, and wished with every fiber of her being, she could toss the boy out onto the streets. 

Except she couldn’t.

“Do whatever you have to,” she stated coldly. “Just make that thing leave.”

Credence looked down at the cat, “...let me go back to work. Please.” His voice was hoarse, and she attributed it to the beating and the tears she had seen earlier in the night. 

“Fine.”


	2. Dark Night (part two of chapter 13 snippits)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is really short. So you get two chapters.

He raged. 

He raged against his mother. Against his sister. Against the city. Against everything. He just wanted it to end. He wanted so badly just to give into the darkness. To stop existing as Credence and just become the Beast. It would be so easy, just so easy to just let go over everything. 

Suddenly, in the middle of the street, you were there. Even in his rage and misery, even utterly consumed by the beast, something recognized you. Something in him called him to you, or maybe it was something in yo that called to him. Either way, it was like a lullaby, calming the anger and soothing the pain. And you...you weren’t afraid of what he was. Did you even know it was him? Part of him doubted you could, but another part wondered. Especially as you stepped closer, reaching out. 

You weren’t scared of him. 

Even like this, you were offering to help him. 

How could he give up and lose you? 

But before he could reach you, a man was standing before you with dark eyes and a light so bright it scalded. He fled to the safety of one of the surrounding buildings, taking shelter on one of the roofs, shuddering for breath. 

He peaked over the edge, saw the man comforting you...no. Hiding you from the other witches. Despite the stinging in his limbs, he watched in morbid curiosity. You...weren’t a witch. But that man was. 

Was he the mysterious Mr. Graves?


	3. Magical AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a universe where the reader was born a witch. A very stubbron, impish, witch. With a crush on a certian Auror.

That...was not Graves.

The young Auror looked a little nervous as she entered the interrogation room, obviously new but trying to hide it. She set your file on the table between you. “I see this isn’t your first time here,” she started, fiddling with the papers. “You have seven assault charges. 11 charges of smuggling magical creatures, and resisting arrest.”

“That last one was one time. And Graves was being an absolute ass that day,” you defended. “Speaking of which, where is he?”

“He’s been promoted to Director,” she answered. “He directed me to take over your case.”

“...oh.” you frowned. For years, whenever you got in trouble, there was Graves. Stern, exasperated, sometimes even trying not to laugh. It may have given you the assurance and even encouragement you needed to do half the things you did knowing that no matter what, he would be there.

Tina was nice enough, if a bit green and wet behind the ears as she stumbled through the routine you had been so used to. There wasn’t even a crack of a smile as she told you off for smuggling puffskeins into Ilvermory. (Last time you did it, Graves could barely keep a straight face, and his first words were: “Puffskeins? Are you serious?” and when you explained how in love the students had been with the things, the smile on his face had warmed you unexpectedly.) 

Time marched on, and you tried to keep to your usual routine of mayhem. But, you quickly became bored of it. You began to ignore the idiots you would usually spontaneously challenge to a duel. Passed up opportunities your contacts offered through the black market for different things. You even quit hexing the john every monday, and didn’t even smile as all the men panicked and became paranoid. 

It just wasn’t the same. 

***

Graves had been monitoring your file and frowned when months went by without a single incident. No new arrests, no citations, not even a warning. 

Surely, he thought, Tina was just forgetting to add things to your file. Or maybe she had started a new one, considering how thick your previous one had been. So in a rare moment of spare time, he stopped by Goldstein's desk. Her sister Queenie was apparently visiting, leaning against the desk and chattering animatedly with her sister. But the smile left Tina’s face when she noticed him, and jumped to her feet with a panicked look. “Sir! I’m sorry! Queenie just stopped to tell me….”

“It’s fine,” he cut her off with a wave of his hand. “I just had a few questions.” He tried to pretend that his curiosity was strictly professional as he asked after you. After all, you were a threat...albeit a very small one. 

“She’s been behaving,” Tina answered as Queenie’s eyes twinkled. “I mean, I haven’t heard anything. What about you, Queenie? She works with you, doesn’t she?”

“I usually don’t tell secrets, but…” Queenie trailed off, “It’s not fun for her anymore. She likes Tina well enough, but she’s no you. Sir.” 

Her words stunned him for a moment, his heart thumping oddly in his chest. Was...was that true? Had some of your behavior been just to get his attention? He remembered all too well your smile as you bantered with him, pushing his buttons. Granted, he had pushed your as well, verging on unprofessional just to see you become flustered, or to get that blush to cross your face. Merlin he loved seeing you at a lost for words, face flushed as you stared at him before spluttering a reply. 

Queenie’s words distracted him every quiet moment for the rest of the week, frustrating him and nearly driving you crazy. 

And on friday, he saw you in the corridor. He was used to your smile on your face all the time. That impish light in your eyes whenever you looked at him. Instead there was a bored, almost depressed look as you kept your head down, not even noticing him as you passed.

Without thinking, he reached out as you went to pass him, his hand brushing your arm. You looked up and with a flash of surprise was replaced with a warm smile. “Graves! Or should I say Director. Congratulations on your promotion.”

“Thank you,” he acknowledged briefly, “How are you? You looked sad.”

There was a faint blush on your face as you glanced away. “I-I’m okay. Just thinking.”

There was a moment's pause, almost uncomfortable. It had never been like this before. You would always talk about something when you met in the hall. Usually something to get him stirred up, like asking how much trouble you would be in if you let a dragon hatchling loose in Macusa. Or if you hexed Abernathy. Again. Never this awkward silence. “I heard you have been behaving yourself.”

Your smile faltered as you looked back at him. “Yeah. I guess I finally grew up.”

The strained expression on your face only added to the strange ache in his chest. He brushed a piece of your hair from your cheek, smiling slightly at the light pink staining your cheeks. “I should be happy about that, but I rather miss it.”

“I do too,” you whispered. “I miss...I miss you.” You stepped away, shaking your head in embarrassment when you realized you had just admitted that aloud. “I’m sorry, Mr. Graves. That was...well, I need to lea…”

You were cut off as he closed the distance between you, pressing his lips firmly against yours. One hand cupped your face, while the other gripped at your hip. Your papers dropped to the ground in a mess, which was only made worse as he stepped on them, backing you up against the wall. You really couldn't care less, especially as his tongue invaded your mouth, and you started to try and match his passion. You gripped his tie, pulling him down a little closer so you didn’t have to crane your neck so much. You grinned at the small groan that escaped his lips as you bumped into the wall, the one hand that was in your hair now bracing him against the cold granite as he pressed his hips flush with yours. 

He broke the kiss, nearly gasping to catch his breath. He pressed his forehead against yours, noses brushing lightly with each breath. Finally, you opened your eyes to see that warm look you had missed terribly. 

“I miss you too.”


	4. Shaw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missing scene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This never quite made it in the story, and while it's not critical to the plot, it's an interesting easter egg.

The night shift of the 15th Precinct was snickering as they listened in to the guy at the sergeant's desk. He looked zozzled, his suit a haphazard mess and his face flushed and absolutely reeking of bad booze.

“So, you were talking to a woman and a mountain lion appeared and attacked your friend Joe.” Sergeant Donovan asked, absolutely unamused by the man in front of him. Oh, he recognized him alright. The youngest of Henry Shaw's son, and a complete disgrace to his family name. He couldn’t count how many times the man had been picked up for public intoxication and inappropriate behavior.

But this had to be both the oddest and most pathetic encounter yet. 

Langdon Shaw shook his head, dramatically gesturing with his hands. “No. You don’t get it. It was a cat. A house cat.”

“A housecat attacked your friend,” Donovan clarified, and Langdon completely missed his sarcastic tone.

“Yes, well, it was a cat, and then it grew. It just… one moment it was a house cat, the next it was a mountain lion.” Langdon pulled at his hair and Donovan rolled his eyes with a sigh. “I swear it. It was a cat. It was mauling my friend.”

“Your friend is Joe Smith, right? 34? Lives at 3rd and Ridgeway?” another officer asked as he approached the sergeant's desk, a file in hand

Langdon’s eye brightened, as he sat up in the metal chair. “Yes! That’s him!”

“Yeah, he’s in detox,” the officer flopped the file on the sergeant's desk, looking towards Donovan. “Unit picked him up near Hudson and 94th. He had a decent scrape on his head, but he certainly hadn’t been mauled.” his eyes snapped Langdon down. “Said he must’ve tripped over his shoe.”

“What? No, no! It was a cat!” Langdon yelled, jumping to his feet. “A mountain lion! A cougar! Whatever you call it. It attacked him! I saw it with my own eyes!”

“Look, Mr. Shaw. I respect your brother and your father, so I’m gonna give you some advice,” Donovan said. “Go home, quit visiting the speakeasies, and lay off the giggle water. Got it?”

“I am not making this up! I swear! It attacked him!” he yelled harshly, slamming his hands on the desk and making every officer in the room tense. “It grew! It attacked him!”

“Mr. Shaw.” The sergeant snapped as he stood, a towering mountain of muscle that instantly made Langdon reconsider his actions. “Either you leave now under you own power, or you will join your buddy down in drunk-tank. Understand?”


	5. The long awaited Reader vs. Mary Lou

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You had a day off. Perfect for explaring the city, right?
> 
> Yeah....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It looks like Reader and Mar Lou aren't going to cross paths, so here is this little drabble.

It had been a nice day, and a rare day off. You had been far too antsy to stay holed up in your room, so you had decided on exploring New York, taking special care not to get lost. Again. And thus far, it had been nice, walking amongst the crowds and the towering buildings, riding the trains just for the sake of it. New York really was an amazing city, and the excitement of actually living in the city was quickly renewing itself. No more miles of farmland, or a town you could walk from end to end in less than an hour. You were a city girl now. 

And then you stumbled upon the Second Salemers, preaching to a small, almost disinterested group on the stairs of a library. The flag and banner had caught your attention for over a block away, and as you walked closer you had heard a soft but firm voice proclaiming about witches and the evil of magic. It felt wrong when you saw Credence handing out fliers. He had come out of his shell so much whenever he was with you, but here he was, head bowed and shoulders hunched like a whipped dog as he tried to hand out flyers to bored passerbys. 

You slipped through the crowd, taking one of the fliers from his hand. “Hey boyo, funny meeting you here.”

His head shot up, his eyes wide in surprise. For one moment, there was a flash of happiness and a ghost of a smile before he glanced over to the woman preaching, fear evident on his face.   
Ah. She must be the infamous Mary Lou. 

“Ma’am, don’t…” Credence whispered as you turned towards the older woman, his hand grabbing yours, making you pause. She was younger than you had expected, easily a few years younger than your own mother. She looked so nice and kind, reminding you of a preacher’s wife. 

Too bad for her you knew the truth.

“Sorry,” you apologized to Credence as your hand slipped from his, rage bubbling within and blinding you.

She took notice as you approached, and had the audacity to smile at you. “Hello friend. Do you have something to add? A question perhaps?”

“Are you Mary Lou?” You asked, and if anything her smile widened as she nodded slightly.

“Yes, I am.”

“So, you’re the one who beats Credence?” It was your turn to smile as her fell, her eyes narrowing as you stepped closer to her, arms hanging by your side, fists clenching. 

“I discipline him as I do all my children,” she said, resolutely standing her ground. You could hear the crowd murmuring, whispering with far more interest than they had before. 

“I’ve been waiting for a long time for this,” you grinned. And the look on her face when your fist flew towards her was priceless. 

***

You were surprised by both McNally and Credence waiting for you as the guard escorted you from the holding cell. Then again, who else in New York would post bail for you? 

McNally stood, eyes narrowed and arms crossed as you picked up your things from the waiting desk clerk. “You knocked out two teeth, broke her nose and left a nasty black eye.”

“I ain’t sorry,” you said firmly. You were suprised as Credence quickly closed the distance between you, wrapping his arms tightly around you. Usually you were the one to hug him first. You wrapped your own arms around him and squeezed back. “Not sorry one bit.”

“Hell girl, I ain’t mad! I’m proud of you!” McNally barked with a laughed, surprising both you and Credence by wrapping his arms around both of you. You could feel Credence tense slightly but then slowly ease into the group hug. “I’d have done the same if I had ever met that witch. Probably worse.”

“How did you afford the bail?” you asked after a moment as the three of you separated. You couldn’t remember the exact amount, but knew it hadn’t exactly been cheap. “If you took out a loan…”

“Nah, Credence here paid the bail.” McNally said, slapping the boy on the shoulder. Credence flinched a little but offered you a smile. 

“You said that money was for a rainy day. It’s...it’s the only way I could repay for what you did for me.”


	6. Alt 19-20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An alternate scene that never got used in chapters 19-20. But I figured everyone needed fluff right now.

It felt awkward undressing in Graves bathroom, giving your things to Queenie who promised to have them fresh by the time you were done. But the feeling was soothed away as soon as you stepped underneath the warm water. Actually, almost everything was soothed away by the hot water, letting you breathe easy for once since becoming sick. It was utterly divine. Since moving to New York you were lucky to get a lukewarm shower from sharing with all the other women at the boarding house. And the toiletries Queenie gave you really did help you feel human again, even though you were sure you would not have minded using Percival’s. Who had looked a little surprised that you even asked if you could use his shower before he left that morning for his job.

You hadn't missed the brief glazed look on his face followed by a faint blush. And now you were thinking about him showering. Nice. 

There seemed to be no end to the warm water as you lost track of time until there was a knock at the door. “I’m not coming out until the water gets cold,” you called out to Queenie. “This is absolute heaven!” 

“Well, you’re going to be in there for a while. It’s charmed to stay warm.” Percival’s amused voice startled you, and you let out a small eep.

“P-Percival!” You flushed as you clutched at the shower curtain. Even though the door was still obviously closed. Of course it was him. “I’m sorry, I-I thought you were Queenie. I didn’t realize it was that late.” 

“I just came back for lunch. Queenie just left, something about Tina I didn’t catch.” You could hear the humor in his voice, making your stomach turn, in a pleasant way. And you had a feeling you knew why Queenie had disappeared. You weren’t sure if you were thankful or hating her right now. “She said she placed your things on the sink with warming charms.”

There was a moment before the shower water went from perfectly hot to ice-cold, making you yelp and hurriedly shutting the water off. You could hear his laughter through the door. “Oh, you are evil Mr. Graves!” You called out, though you were grinning yourself, having a hard time not giggling. “Absolutely evil!”

“What can I say? You bring out the worst in me.” The was a warm fondness in his tone, making you smile to yourself as you dried off with the warm plush towels before dressing, pausing only when you grabbed for the cotton gown. 

“This...is not the nightgown I gave Queenie,” you mused, mostly to yourself. It was a plain dress was a bit shorter, though not really risking indecency, with thin straps and a less-than-moderate neckline. 

“She probably transfigured it,” he mused, “She did tell me she was appalled at my attempt, but to be fair I rarely transfigure clothing.” 

You slipped the dress on, and would it have been any other time, you wouldn’t have had much pause about it. You wore worse things at the club. But this was much more...intimate setting than standing up on stage. Percival seemed to understand the cause of the long moment of silence. “If it’s too much, I can change it.”

“No,” you found yourself answering, shaking your head even though no one was there to see it. “No, it’s okay.” You took one last glance at yourself in the mirror before gathering your courage and opening the door. He looked rather tired as he leaned on the doorframe, but something shifted in his eyes, waking him up as he studied you with such intensity you found yourself blushing. 

“Merlin, you’re beautiful,” he finally whispered, caressing your cheek lightly and brushing your wet hair back behind your ear. 

You felt your face flush more, glancing away. The look on his face was too much, your heart pounding in your chest. “Q-Queenie did some charms, but I thought they were gone.” You hadn’t really noticed it in the mirror, but maybe it was something you couldn’t see. 

“No, you’ve always been beautiful,” he argued softly as he played with a strand of hair that refused to behave. The regret in his eyes tugged at your heart once you glanced up at him, meeting his dark eyes. “I should've said that more often. I should've said a lot of things before now. I’m sorry.” 

“Not your fault,” you repeated for probably the dozenth time. “I swear it, Percival. I don’t regret any of this. Don’t you regret it either.”

There was an argument in his eyes, but instead of stating whatever was on his mind, he leaned down to kiss you softly. You easily giving into temptation, and despite everything, there was no rush to, no urgency. Just a slow, lazy kiss that was better in some respects that the desperate ones of the past. His hand tangled itself in your wet hair, while the other rested on your hip. Your own traced his jaw, feeling a faint stubble even though you watched him shave earlier with an regular straight blade.

“I love you,” he whispered when you finally broke apart, resting your foreheads together, your name sounding sacred when he spoke it. “I just...I want you to know that. I love you.” 

Your stomach twisted itself in knots as you opened your eyes, losing yourself in his. “I love you too. Remember that, please. That no matter what, I love you.” 

The raw look in his eyes broke your heart, making you close your eyes as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, holding you close. Your arms wrapped around him as tight as you could. You didn’t want to leave this man. You didn’t want to lose these small tender moments that meant the world to you. 

But, nothing lasted forever. There was a faint chime from somewhere in the apartment, making him groan slightly as he pulled away. “So much for a lunch break.” 

You frowned, “Did you even eat anything?” With Queenie’s subtle statement earlier, you had noticed that she was right. Graves thought he could live off of coffee alone. And there was a faint guilty look on his face that answered your question. “You silly, Queenie made enough to feed an army. Take some with you.” 

“Tina never mentioned her sister cooked when she was worried,” he tried to deflect, but you only crossed your arms with a more-or-less mock scowl on your face that made him smile. “I mean: yes, dear.” He gave you a playful kiss on your cheek, and while part of you felt warmed by the gesture, it also made that ache in your chest. It was far too easy to imagine doing this every day, both of you fussing over each other because both of you were workaholics that didn’t take the greatest care of yourselves. You highly doubted he would be like other men, expecting you just to be a housewife. If you wanted to work, he would support your decision, only saying something when you tried to work yourself to death. 

The same thought must have crossed his mind as you brushed your face again, that sad fondness in his eyes once more. 

Why did fate have to be so cruel?


End file.
